- 


THE 

CULPRIT     FAY. 

A   POEM 

BY   JOSEPH    RODMAN    DRAKE. 
With  One  Hundred  Illustrations,  by   Arthur  Lumley. 


NEW  YORK: 

CARLETON,      PUBLISHER. 
MDCCCLXX. 


T.ntered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1866,  by 
GEORGE  W.  CARLETOX, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the   United  States  foi  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


"The  exquisite  poem  of  'THE  CULPRIT  FAY,'  was 
composed  hastily  among  the  Highlands  of  the  Hudson,  in 
the  summer  of  1819.  The  author  was  walking  with  some 
friends  on  a  warm  moonlight  evening,  when  one  of  the 
party  remarked  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  write  a  faery 
poem,  purely  imaginative,  without  the  aid  of  human 
characters.  The  party  was  reassembled  two  or  three 
days  afterwards  and  'THE  CULPRIT  FAY'  was  read  to 
them,  nearly  as  it  is  now  printed." 


\ 


)  "  My  visual  orbs  are  purged  from  film,  and,  lo  ! 
>      Instead  of  Anster's  tumip-bearine  vales 


I  see  old  fairy  land's  miraculous  show  I 
Her  trees  of  tinsel  kissed  by  freakish  gales, 

Her  Ouphs  that,  cloaked  in  leaf-gold,  skim  the 

breese, 
And  fairies,  swarming 


TENNANT'S  ANSTER  FAIR. 


.,  fv* 


^_ •v.-j         — a 


Tis  the  middle  watch  of  a  summer's  night — 


16  THE  CULPRIT   FAY. 

The    earth     is     dark,     but     the    heavens    are 
bright  ; 

Naught   is   seen   in   the   vault   on   high 
But     the     moon,     and     the     stars,     and     the 
cloudless   sky, 

And    the   flood   which   rolls    its    milky    hue, 
A    river   of  light   on   the   welkin    blue. 

The    moon    looks   down    on    old    Cronest, 
She     mellows     the     shades     on     his     shaggy 
breast, 

And    seems    his   huge   grey   form    to   throw 
In    a   silver   cone   on    the   wave   below  ; 

His    sides    are   broken    by   spots    of  shade, 
By    the   walnut    bough   and    the   cedar   made, 


THE  CULPRIT    FAY.  I/ 

And    through    their   clustering   branches    dark 
Glimmers    and   dies    the    fire-fly's    spark — 

Like    starry   twinkles    that   momently   break, 
Through   the   rifts    of  the   gathering  tempest's 
rack. 


The   stars   are   on   the   moving   stream, 
And    fling,    as    its    ripples   gently   flow, 

A    burnished   length    of  wavy   beam 
In    an    eel-like,    spiral   line   below  ; 

The   winds   are   whist,   and   the   owl   is   still, 
The    bat    in    the   shelvy   rock   is   hid, 


THE    CULPRIT   FAY.  19 

And   naught   is    heard   on    the   lonely   hill 
But      the      cricket's     chirp,     and    the    answer 

shrill 

Of    the    gauze-winged    katy-did  ; 
And     the    plaint    of    the     wailing    whip-poor- 
will, 

Who    moans    unseen,    and   ceaseless    sings, 

Ever   a   note   of  wail    and   woe, 
Till    morning   spreads    her   rosy    wings, 

And    earth   and   sky   in    her  glances   glow. 


Tis     the   hour   of    fairy   ban   and   spell  ; 
The   wood-tick   has   kept   the   minutes   well  ; 

He    has    counted     them    all    with    click    and 

stroke 
Deep    in    the   heart   of  the   mountain    oak, 


THE    CULPRIT   FAY.  21 

And   he   has   awakened   the   sentry   elve 

Who   sleeps  with   him   in  the  haunted  tree, 

To    bid   him   ring   the   hour   of    twelve, 
And   call   the   fays    to  .their   revelry  ; 

Twelve   small   strokes   on   his   tinkling  bell — 

('Twas     made     of     the     white     snail's  pearly 

shell  ;) 
"  Midnight   comes,    and   all   is    well  ! 

Hither,    hither,   wing   your   way  ! 
'Tis    the   dawn    of  the   fairy-day." 


They   come   from   beds   of   lichen   green, 
They  creep   from   the   mullen's   velvet   screen ; 

Some   on   the   backs   of  beetles   fly 

From  the  silver  tops  of  moon-touched  trees, 

Where  they  swung  in  their  cobweb  hammocks 

high, 
And   rocked   about    in    the   evening   breeze  ; 


THE    CULPRIT    FAY. 


Some   from    the   hum-bird's   downy   nest — 
They   had   driven   him   out   by   elfin    power, 

And  pillowed  on  plumes  of  his  rainbow  breast, 
Had  slumbered  there  till  the  charmed  hour ; 

Some    had   lain    in    the    scoop   of  the   rock, 
With    glittering   ising-stars    inlaid  ; 


24  THE    CULPRIT    FAY. 

And   some   had   opened   the   four-o'clock, 
And   stole   within   its   purple   shade. 
And  now  they  throng  the  moonlight  glade, 

Above — below — on    every   side, 
Their   little   minim    forms    arrayed 

In    the   tricksey   pomp   of  fairy   pride ! 


They   come   not   now   to  print   the   lea, 
In    freak   and   dance   around   the   tree, 


Or   at    the   mushroom   board   to   sup, 
And   drink   the   dew   from   the   butter-cup 


26  THE   CULPRIT   FAY. 

• 

A   scene   of  sorrow   waits    them    now, 

For   an   Ouphe   has   broken   his   vestal   vow 

He   has   loved   an   earthly   maid, 

And   left   for   her   his    woodland    shade  ; 

He   has   lain   upon   her   lip   of  dew, 
And    sunned   him    in   her   eye   of  blue, 

Fanned   her   cheek   with   his    wing   of  air, 
Played   in   the   ringlets   of  her   hair, 

And,    nestling   on   her   snowy   breast, 
Forgot    the     lily-king's    behest. 

For   this    the   shadowy   tribes   of  air 

To    the   elfin    court   must   haste   away  : — 


THE    CULPRIT    FAY. 

And    now    they   stand   expectant   there, 
To   hear   the    doom    of  the   culprit    Fa 


The   throne   was   reared   upon   the   grass, 
Of  spice-wood   and   the   sassafras  ; 

On  pillars  of  mottled  tortoise-shell 
Hung  the  burnished  canopy — 

And  over  it  gorgeous  curtains  fell 
Of  the  tulip's  crimson  drapery. 

The    monarch   sat   on   his  judgment-seat, 


»0  THE  CULPRIT   FAY. 

On   his   brow   the   crown   imperial   shone, 
The   prisoner   Fay   was   at   his   feet, 

And    his    peers    were    ranged    around    the 
throne, 

He   waved   his   sceptre   in   the   air, 

He   looked   around   and   calmly   spoke ; 

His   brow   was   grave   and   his   eye   severe, 
But    his    voice   in    a   softened   accent  broke  : 


"  Fairy  !    Fairy  !    list   and   mark  : 

Thou   hast   broke   thine   elfin    chain  ; 

Thy    flame-wood    lamp   is   quenched   and   dark, 
And    thy    wings    are    dyed    with    a    deadly 
stain — 

Thou   hast   sullied   thine   elfin   purity 

In    the   glance   of  a   mortal    maiden's    eye, 


32  THE   CULPRIT   FAY. 

Thou   hast   scorned   our  dread   decree, 
And   thou   shouldst   pay  the   forfeit   high. 

But   well    I    know   her   sinless   mind 
Is   pure   as   the   angel   forms   above, 

Gentle   and   meek   and   chaste   and   kind, 
Such   as   a   spirit   well   might   love  ; 

Fairy !    had   she   spot   or   taint, 
Bitter   had   been   thy   punishment. 


THE    CULPRIT    FAY.  33 

Tied    to    the    hornet's    shardy   wings  ; 
Tossed    on   the   pricks    of  nettle   stings  ; 

Or   seven   long   ages    doomed   to   dwell 
With    the   lazy   worm    in   the   walnut-shell  ; 

Or   every   night   to   writhe   and    bleed 
Beneath   the    tread    of  the    centipede ; 

Or   bound   in   a   cobweb   dungeon   dim, 
Your  jailer   a   spider   huge   and   grim, 

Amid   the   carrion   bodies    to   lie, 
Of    the   worm,    and    the    bug,    and   the   mur- 
dered  fly  ; 

These   it   had   been   your   lot    to   bear, 

Had    a   stain    been    found    on    the   earthly  fair. 


34  THE   CULPRIT   FAY. 

Now   list   and   mark   our   mild   decret 
Fairy,   this   your   doom  must   be : 


"  Thou    shalt   seek   the   beach    of  sand 
Where    the   water   bounds    the   elfin    land  ; 

Thou    shalt   watch    the   oozy    brine 
Till   the    sturgeon   leaps   in   the   bright    moon- 
shine, 


THE    CULPRIT    FAY. 


Then    dart    the   glistening   arch    below. 
And    catch    a   drop   from    his    silver   bow 


THE   CULPRIT    FAY.  37 

The   water-sprites   will   wield   their   arms 
And   dash   around   with   roar   and    rave, 

And   vain   are   the   woodland   spirits'    charms, 
They   are   the   imps    that   rule   the   wave. 

Yet   trust   thee   in    thy   single   might : 

If  thy   heart   be   pure    and    thy    spirit   right 

Thou   shalt   win    the    warlock   fight. 


"If  the   spray-bead   gem   be   won, 

The   stain   of  thy  wing   is   washed   away  : 

But   another   errand   must   be   done 
Ere   thy   crime   be   lost   for   aye  ; 

Thy   flame-wood   lamp   is    quenched    and    dark. 
Thou    must    reillume   its    spark. 


THE   CULPRIT    FAY,  39 

Mount   thy   steed   and    spur   him   high 
To   the   heaven's   blue   canopy  ; 

And   when   thou   seest   a   shooting   star, 
Follow   it   fast,    and   follow    it   far— 

The   last   faint   spark   of  its    burning    train 
Shall   light   the   elfin   lamp   again. 

Thou   hast   heard   our   sentence,    Fay  ; 
Hence !    to   the   water-side,   away !" 


The   goblin   marked   his   monarch   well; 

He    spake    no    word,    but    he    bowed    him 

low, 

Then    plucked   a   crimson   colen-bell, 
And   turned   him   round  in    act   to   go. 


THE    CULPRIT    FAY.  4I 

The   way   is    long,    he   cannot   fly, 
His    soiled    wing   has   lost   its    power, 

And   he   winds    adown    the   mountain    high, 
For   many   a   sore   and   weary   hour. 

Through   dreary   beds    of  tangled   fern, 
Through  groves  of  nightshade  dark  and  dern, 

Over   the   grass    and    through    the    brake, 
Where   toils    the   ant    and   sleeps    the   snake  ; 


Now   over   the   violet's    azure    flush 
He    skips   along   in   lightsome   mood  ; 


42  THE   CULPRIT   FAY. 

And   now   he   thrids   the   bramble-bush, 
Till   its   points   are   dyed   in   fairy   blood. 

He   has   leaped   the   bog,   he    has   pierced   the 

brier, 
He    has    swum     the    brook,    and    waded    the 

mire, 

Till    his    spirits    sank,    and    his    limbs    grew 

weak, 
And   the   red   waxed   fainter   in   his   cheek. 

He   had   fallen    to   the   ground   outright, 

For     rugged     and     dim     was     his     onward 

track, 

But   there   came   a   spotted   toad   in   sight, 
And    he   laughed   as    he    jumped    upon    her 
back : 


THE    CULPRIT    FAY. 


43 


He   bridled   her  mouth  with  a  silkweed  twist, 
He   lashed   her   sides   with    an    osier  thong ; 

And    now   through    evening's    dewy    mist, 
With   leap   and   spring   they   bound   along, 

Till   the   mountain's   magic   verge   is    past, 
And    the   beach    of  sand   is    reached    at   last. 


Soft   and   pale  is   the   moony    beam, 
Moveless    still   the   glassy   stream  ; 

The  wave  is  clear,  the  beach  is  bright 
With  snowy  shells  and  sparkling  stones  ; 

The  shore-surge  comes  in  ripples  light, 
In  murmurings  faint,  and  distant  moans ; 


THE   CULPRIT    FAY.  45 

And   ever   afar   in   the    silence   deep 

Is    heard   the   splash    of  the    sturgeon's   leap, 

And   the   bend  of  his  graceful  bow  is   seen— 
A   glittering   arch  of  silver   sheen, 

Spanning   the   wave   of  burnished   blue, 
And   dripping   with   gems    of  the   river-dew. 


The   elfin   cast   a  glance   around, 
As     he     lighted     down     from     his     courser 
toad, 


THE  CULPRIT   FAY. 


47 


Then  .  round   his    breast    his    wings    he  wound, 
And   close   to   the   river's   brink   he    strode  ; 

He   sprang   on  a  rock,    he   breathed  a  prayer, 
Above   his    head   his  arms   he   threw, 

Then    tossed   a   tiny    curve   in    air, 

And   headlong   plunged   in   the   waters  blue. 


Up   sprung   the   spirits   of  the   waves, 
From    the   sea-silk   beds   in   their   coral   caves, 
With   snail-plate   armor   snatched   in   haste, 
They     speed    their    way    through    the    liquid 
waste ; 


THE    CULPRIT   FAY.  49 


Some   are   rapidly   borne   along 

On    the   mailed    shrimp   or   the   prickly  prong, 


Some   on    blood-red   leeches    glide, 
Some    on    the    stony   star-fish    ride, 

Some   on   the   back   of  the   lancing   squab, 
Some   on    the   sideling   soldier-crab  ; 

And   some   on    the  jellied    quarl,    that   flings 
At    once   a   thousand    streamy    stings ; 


50  THE   CULPRIT   FAY. 

They   cut   the   wave   with   the   living   oar, 
And   hurry   on    to    the   moonlight   shore, 

To   guard   their   realms   and   chase   away 
The   footsteps   of  the   invading  Fay. 


Fearlessly   he   skims   along, 

His    hope   is    high,   and   his   limbs  are  strong, 

He     spreads     his     arms     like     the     swallow's 

wing, 
And   throws   his   feet   with   a   frog-like   fling  ; 


52  THE   CULPRIT    FAY. 

His    locks   of  gold   on   the   waters   shine, 
At   his   breast   the   tiny   foam-beads   rise, 

His   back   gleams   bright   above   the   brine, 
And   the   wake-line   foam   behind   him   lies, 

But   the   water-sprites   are   gathering   near 
To   check   his   course   along   the   tide ; 

Their   warriors   come   in   swift   career, 
And   hem   him   round   on   every   side  ; 


On    his    thigh   the   leech   has   fixed   his   hold, 
The    quarl's    long   arms   are  round  him   rolled, 

The    prickly   prong   has   pierced   his    skin, 
And    the   squab   has    thrown   his  javelin, 


THE   CULPRIT   FAY.  53 

The   gritty   star   has    rubbed   him    raw, 
And    the     crab    has     struck    with     his     giant 
claw, 

He    howls    with    rage,    and    he   shrieks   with 

pain, 
He    strikes    around,    but    his    blows   are   vain  ; 

Hopeless    is    the    unequal   fight, 
Fairy !    naught   is   left   but   flight. 


He   turned   him   round,   and   fled   amain 
With   hurry   and   dash   to   the   beach   again. 

He   twisted   over   from   side   to   side, 

And   laid   his    cheek   to   the   cleaving   tide ; 

The    strokes   of  his   plunging   arms   are   fleet, 
And   with   all   his   might   he   flings   his   feet, 


THE    CULPRIT    FAY. 


55 


But   the   water-sprites   are   round   him    still, 
To    cross   his   path   and   work   him   ill. 


They   bade   the   waves    before   him    rise ; 
They   flung   the    sea-fire   in    his    eyes, 


56  THE   CULPRIT    FAY. 

And  they  stunned  his  ears  with  the  scallop- 
stroke, 

With  the  porpoise  heave,  and  the  drum-fish 
croak. 

Oh !   but   a   weary   wight   was   he 
When   he   reached   the   foot   of    the    dog-wood 
tree. 

Gashed    and   wounded,    and    stiff  and    sore, 
He   laid   him    down    on    the   sandy   shore ; 

He    blessed    the   force   of  the    charmed   line, 
And    he   banned   the   water-goblins'    spite, 
For   he    saw   around    in    the   sweet   moonshine 
Their   little   wee   faces    above   the   brine, 

Giggling   and   laughing   with    all   their   might 
At    the    piteous    hap   of  the    Fairy   wight 


Soon    he    gathered   the 

balsam   dew 
From  the  sorrel-leaf  and 

the    henbane   bud  ; 


58  THE  CULPRIT   FAY. 

Over   each    wound    the   balm   he   drew, 

And    with    cobweb    lint    he     stanched    the 
blood. 

The    mild   west   wind   was    soft   and   low, 
It   cooled   the   heat   of  his   burning   brow, 

And   he   felt   new   life   in   his   sinews    shoot, 
As   he   suck'd   the  juice   of  the   calamus    root ; 

And   now   he   treads   the   fatal   shore, 
As   fresh   and   vigorous   as   before. 


Wrapped   in    musing   stands    the   sprite  ; 
'Tis    the   middle   wane   of  night  ; 

His    task   is    hard,    his    way   is    far, 
But   he   must   do   his    errand   right, 


60  THE   CULPRIT   FAY. 

Ere   dawning   mounts   her   beamy   car, 
And    rolls   her   chariot   wheels   of  light ; 

And   vain   are   the   spells   of   fairy-land, 
He   must   work   with   a   human   hand. 


He   cast   a   saddened   look   around, 

But    he   felt   new  joy   his    bosom    swell, 

When   glittering   on    the    shadowed   ground, 
He   saw   a   purple   mussel-shell ; 


62 


THE  CULPRIT   FAY. 


Thither   he   ran,    and    he    bent   him    low, 
He   heaved   at   the    stern   and    he    heaved    at 
the   bow, 


And   he   pushed   her   over   the   yielding   sand, 
Till   he   came   to    the    verge    of    the    haunted 
land. 


THE    CULPRIT    FAY.  63 

She   was   as   lovely   a   pleasure-boat 

As   ever   fairy   had   traveled    in, 
For   she   glowed   with   purple    paint   without, 

And    shone   with   silvery   pearl   within  ; 

A    sculler's    notch    in   the   stern    he    made, 
An    oar   he    shaped   of  the   bootle   blade ; 

Then    sprung    to    his    seat    with   a   lightsome 

leap, 
And    launched   afar,    on    the   calm,    blue    deep. 


The   imps   of  the   river  yell   and   rave  ; 
They   had   no   power   above   the   wave, 

But    they  heaved   the   billow   before  the   prow, 
And    they    dashed    the    surge    against    her 
side, 


THE    CULPRIT    FAY.  65 

And  they  struck  her  keel  with  jerk  and  blow, 
Till   the   gunwale   bent   to   the  rocking  tide. 


She   wimpled   about    to    the   pale    moon-beam, 
Like    a    feather   that    floats    on    a    wind-tossed 
stream ; 


66  THE   CULPRIT    FAY. 

And   momently   athwart   her   track 
The   quarl   upreared   his   island   back, 

And  the  fluttering  scallop  behind  would   float, 
And   spatter   the   water   about   the   boat  ; 

But   he   bailed   her   out   with   his    colen-bell, 
And   he    kept    her    trimmed    with    a    wary 
tread, 

While   on   every   side   like   lightning   fell 
The   heavy   strokes   of  his   bootle-blade 


Onward    still   he   held   his   way, 
Till    he    came    where    the    column    of    moon- 
shine  lay, 


63  THE   CULPRIT   FAY. 

And   saw   beneath    the   surface   dim 

The   brown-backed   sturgeon   slowly   swim  ; 

Around   him   were   the   goblin    train — 

But   he   sculled   with  all   his  might  and  main, 

And   followed   wherever   the   sturgeon   led, 
Till   he   saw   him   upward   point   his   head  ; 
Then    he   dropped   his    paddle-blade, 

And   held   his    colen-goblet   up 

To   catch   the   drop   in   its   crimson   cup. 


With    sweeping   tail   and    quivering   fin, 
Through    the    wave    the    sturgeon    flew, 

And,    like    the   heaven-shot  javelin, 
He   sprung   above   the   waters   blue. 


THE  CULPRIT   FAY. 


THE   CULPRIT    FAY.  Jl 

Instant    as    the    star-fall   light 

He   plunged   him   in    the   deep   again, 

But   left   an    arch   of  silver   bright, 
The   rainbow   of  the    moony   main. 

It   was   a   strange   and   lovely    sight 
To   see   the   puny  goblin    there  ; 

He   seemed   an   angel   form   of  light, 
With   azure   wings    and   sunny    hair, 
Throned   on    a   cloud    of  purple    fair, 

Circled   with    blue   and   edged   with   white, 

And    sitting   at   the   fall    of  even 
Beneath   the   bow   of  summer   heaven. 


II' 


A    moment,   and   its   lustre   fell ; 

But   ere   it   met   the   billow   blue, 
He    caught   within   his   crimson    bell 

A    droplet    of  its   sparkling   dew — 


THE   CULPRIT   FAY.  73 

Joy    to    thee,    Fay !    thy   task   is    done, 

Thy   wings    are   pure,    for   the   gem    is    won — 

Cheerly   ply    thy    dripping   oar, 

And   haste   away /to   the   elfin   shore. 


He   turns,   and   lo !    on   either   side 
The    ripples    on    his   path   divide  ; 

And   the  track  o'er  which  his  boat  must  pass 
Is    smooth   as   a   sheet   of  polished   glass, 


THE    CULPRIT    FAY. 

Around,    their   limbs    the   sea-nymphs   lave, 
With   snowy   arms    half  swelling   out, 

While   on    the   glossed   and   gleamy   wave 
Their   sea-green   ringlets   loosely   float  ; 


75 


They   swim    around   with    smile   and   song ; 
They   press    the   bark   with   pearly   hand, 


76  THE    CULPRIT   FAY. 

And   gently   urge   her   course   along, 
Toward   the   beach   of  speckled   sand ; 
And,   as   he   lightly   leaped   to   land, 

They   bade   adieu   with   nod   and   bow, 
Then   gaily   kissed   each   little   hand, 

And   dropped   in   the   crystal   deep   below. 


A    moment   stayed   the   fairy   there  ; 

He   kissed   the  beach  and  breathed  a  prayer ; 

Then   spread   his   wings   of  gilded   blue, 
And   on   to   the   elfin   court   he   flew ; 


7»  THE   CULPRIT   FAY. 

As    ever  ye   saw   a   bubble   rise, 

And    shine   with    a   thousand    changing   dies. 

Till,    lessening   far,    through    ether   driven, 
It   mingles   with   the   hues   of  heaven  ; 


As,    at   the   glimpse   of  morning   pale, 
The   lance-fly   spreads   his    silken    sail, 

And    gleams   with   blendings    soft   and   bright, 
Till    lost    in    the    shades   of  fading  night  ; 


THE   CULPRIT    FAY.  79 

So    rose   from    earth   the   lovely    Fay — 
So   vanished,    far   in   heaven   away ! 

*  *  ***** 

Up,    Fairy !    quit   thy   chick-weed   bower, 
The    cricket   has    called   the    second   hour, 

Twice   again,    and   the   lark   will   rise 
To   kiss    the   streakings    of    the   skies — 

Up  !    thy   charmed   armor   don, 

Thou  'It   need   it   ere   the   night   be    gone. 


put  his  acorn  helmet  on  ; 
It    was    plumed    of    the    silk    of    the    thistle- 
down ; 

The   corslet-plate   that   guarded   his   breast 
Was   once   the   wild   bee's   golden   vest ; 


THE   CULPRIT   FAY.  8l 

His    cloak   of  a   thousand   mingled   dyes. 
Was    formed   of  the   wings    of  butterflies  ; 

His  shield  was    the  shell  of  a  lady-bug  queen, 
Studs    of  gold   on   a   ground    of  green  ; 

And  the  quivering  lance  which  he  brand- 
ished bright, 

Was  the  sting  of  a  wasp  he  had  slain  in 
fight. 

Swift   he   bestrode   his    fire-fly   steed  ; 

He  bared  his  blade  of  the  bent  grass  blue  ; 
He  drove  his  spurs  of  the  cockle-seed, 

And  away  like  a  glance  of  thought  he 
flew, 

To    skim    the   heavens    and   follow   far 
The   fiery   trail   of  the   rocket-star. 


The   moth-fly,    as    he    shot    in    air, 

Crept    under   the  leaf  and    hid    her   there ; 


THE    CULPRIT   FAY.  83 

The    katy-did    forgot   its    lay, 

The   prowling   gnat    fled    fast   away, 

The   fell   mosquito    checked   his   drone, 
And  folded  his  wings  till  the  Fay  was  gone, 

And   the   wily   beetle    dropped   his   head, 
And  fell   on    the   ground    as    if  he  were  dead  ; 


They   crouched   them    close   in    the    darksome 
shade, 

They    quaked   all   o'er   with   awe   and   fear, 
For   they   had   felt    the   blue-bent   blade, 

And  writhed  at  the  prick  of  the  elfin  spear; 


84  THE   CULPRIT    FAY. 

Many   a   time,    on   a   summer's    night, 
When    the   sky   was   clear   and  the  moon   was 
bright, 

They    had    been     roused     from     the     haunted 

ground 
By   the   yelp   and   bay   of  the   fairy   hound, 

They   had   heard   the   tiny   bugle-horn, 

They   had   heard   the   twang   of    the    maize- 
silk    string,  . 
When  the  vine-twig  bows  were  tightly  drawn, 
And    the    nettle-shaft     through    the    air    was 

borne, 
Feathered  with  down  of  the  hum-bird's  wing. 

And    now   they   deemed   the   courier    ouphe, 
Some   hunter-sprite   of  the   elfin   ground ; 


THE   CULPRIT   FAY.  85 

And   they   watched    till   they   saw   him   mount 

the   roof 
That    canopies   the   world  around  ; 

Then   glad   they  left   their   covert   lair, 
And   freaked   about   in   the   midnight   air. 


Up   to   the   vaulted   firmament 

His   path   the   fire-fly   courser   bent, 

And   at   every   gallop   on    the   wind, 
He   flung   a  glittering   spark   behind ; 

He   flies   like  a   feather   in   the   blast 

Till   the   first   light   cloud   in   heaven   is    past. 

But    the  shapes   of  air  have  begun  their  work 


88  THE    CULPRIT   FAY. 

And    a   drizzly    mist   is    round    him    cast, 
He   can   not   see   through   the   mantle   murk, 

He   shivers   with   cold,    but   he   urges   fast  ; 
Through  storm  and  darkness,  sleet  and   shade, 

He   lashes   his  steed   and   spurs   amain, 

For   shadowy   hands  have  twitched  the  rein, 
And   flame-shot   tongues   around   him   played, 

And   near   him   many   a   fiendish   eye 
Glared    with    a   fell    malignity, 

And   yells   of  rage,   and   shrieks   of  fear, 
Came   screaming   on   his   startled   ear. 


His   wings   are   wet   around   his   breast, 
The   plume   hangs   dripping   from    his    crest, 

His   eyes  are   blurred  by  the  lightning's  glare, 
And  his  ears   are  stunned   with  the  thunder's 
blare, 

But    he   gave  a  shout   and   his   blade  he  drew, 
He   thrust   before   and   he   struck   behind, 


THE   CULPRIT    FAY- 


Till   he   pierced   their   cloudy   bodies  through, 

And   gashed   their   shadowy  limbs  of  wind ; 

Howling   the   misty   spectres    flew, 

They    rend    the   air   with    frightful  cries, 

For   he   has   gained   the   welkin   blue, 

And   the   land   of   clouds    beneath    him   lies, 


Up    to   the   cope,    careering   swift, 
In   breathless   motion   fast, 

Fleet   as   the   swallow   cuts    the   drift, 
Or   the   sea-roc    rides    the   blast, 

The   sapphire   sheet   of  eve   is   shot, 
The   sphered   moon    is    past, 

The   earth   but   seems   a   tiny   blot 
On   a   sheet   of  azure   cast. 


92  THE   CULPRIT    FAY. 

O!    it   was   sweet   in   the   clear   moonlight, 
To   tread   the   starry   plain   of  even, 

To   meet   the   thousand   eyes   of .  night, 
And   feel   the   cooling   breath   of  heaven ! 

But   the   elfin   made   no   stop   or   stay 

Till  he  came   to   the   bank   of  the   milky-way, 

Then    he   checked   his   courser's   foot, 
And   watched   for   the   glimpse   of  the   planet- 
shoot. 


Sudden    along   the    snowy    tide 

That    swelled    to   meet    their   footsteps'    fall, 
The   sylphs    of  heaven   were   seen    to   glide, 

Attired   in    sunset's    crimson    pall ; 

Around   the    Fay    they   weave    the   dance, 
They   skip   before    him    on    the    plain, 


THE   CULPRIT   FAY.  95 

And   one   has    taken   his   wasp-sting   lance, 
And   one   upholds   his   bridle-rein ; 

With   warblings   wild   they   lead   him    on 
To   where,    through   clouds    of  amber   seen, 

Studded   with   stars,    resplendent   shone 
The   palace   of  the    sylphid   queen. 

Its    spiral    columns,    gleaming    bright, 
Were   streamers   of  the   northern    light  ; 

Its   curtain's   light   and   lovely   flush 
Was   of  the   morning's    rosy   blush, 

And   the   ceiling   fair,    that    rose   aboon, 
The   white   and   feathery    fleece   of  noon. 


But,    O !    how   fair   the   shape   that   lay 
Beneath   a  rainbow  bending   bright ; 

She   seemed   to   the   entranced    Fay 
The   loveliest   of  the   forms   of  light ; 


THE    CULPRIT    FAY.  97 

Her   mantle   was   the   purple   rolled 

At    twilight   in   the   west   afar ; 
'Twas   tied   with   threads   of  dawning   gold 

And   buttoned   with   a   sparkling   star. 

Her   face   was   like   the   lily   roon 
That   veils   the   vestal   planet's    hue ; 

Her   eyes,    two   beamlets   from    the    moon, 
Set   floating   in   the   welkin   blue. 

Her   hair   is   like   the   sunny   beam, 

And  the  diamond  gems  which  round  it  gleam 

Are   the   pure   drops   of  dewy   even 

That   ne'er   have   left   their   native   heaven. 


She    raised   her  eyes  to  the  wondering  sprite, 
And    they    leaped    with    smiles,    for    well    I 
ween 

Never   before   in    the   bowers    of  light 

Had  the  form  of  an  earthly  Fay  been  seen. 


THE   CULPRIT    FAY.  99 

Long   she   looked   in    his    tiny   face ; 

Long   with    his    butterfly   cloak   she   played ; 
She    smoothed   his   wings   of  azure   lace, 

And   handled    the   tassel    of  his   blade ; 

And    as   he    told    in   accents   low 
The   story   of  his    love   and   woe, 

She   felt   new   pains    in   her   bosom    rise, 
And   the    tear-drop   started   in    her   eyes. 

And    "  O !    sweet   spirit   of  earth,"    she    cried, 
"  Return  no  more  to  your  woodland  height, 

But   ever   here   with    me   abide 
In    the   land    of  everlasting   light ! 

Within    the    fleecy   drift   we'll   lie, 

We  '11   hang   upon    the   rainbow's   rim ; 


THE   CULPRIT    FAY.  IOI 

And   all   the  jewels   of  the   sky 

Around   thy   brow   shall   brightly   beam  ! 

And   thou   shalt   bathe   thee   in    the   stream 
That   rolls    its   whitening   foam   aboon, 

And   ride   upon   the   lightning's   gleam, 
And   dance   upon    the   orbed    moon ! 

We'll   sit   within    the    Pleiad   ring, 
We'll   rest   on    Orion's    starry   belt, 

And    I    will   bid   my   sylphs    to    sing 

The   song   that   makes    the   dew-mist   melt ; 

Their   harps    are   of  the   umber   shade 
That   hides    the   blush   of  waking   day, 

And   every   gleatny   string   is    made 

Of  silvery   moonshine's    lengthened   ray ; 


102 


THE  CULPRIT    FAY. 


And    them   shalt   pillow   on    my   breast, 
While   heavenly   breathings   float   around, 

And,   with   the   sylphs   of  ether   blest, 
Forget   the  joys   of  fairy   ground." 


She   was   lovely   and   fair   to   see, 
And   the   elfin's   heart   beat   fitfully ; 

But   lovelier   far,   and   still   more   fair, 
The   earthly   form   imprinted   there ; 

Naught   he   saw   in   the   heavens   above 
Was   half  so   dear   as   his   mortal   love, 


104  THE    CULPRIT   FAY. 

For   he   thought    upon   her   look   so   meek, 
And    he    thought    of    the    light    flush    on    her 
cheek  ; 

Never   again   might   he   bask   and   lie 

On    that   sweet   cheek   and   moonlight   eye, 

But    in   his   dreams   her   form    to   see, 
To   clasp   her   in    his    revery, 

To   think   upon   his   virgin    bride, 

Was   worth   all   heaven,    and   earth   beside. 


"  Lady,"   he   cried,    "  I   have   sworn   to-night, 
On    the   word   of  a   fairy-knight, 
To   do   my   sentence-task   aright ; 

My   honor   scarce   is   free   from   stain, 
I    may   not   soil   its   snows   again  ; 

Betide   me   weal,   betide   me   wo, 

Its   mandate   must   be   answered   now." 


106  THE   CULPRIT   FAY. 

Her  bosom   heaved  with   many   a   sigh, 
The   tear  was   in   her   drooping   eye  ; 

But   she  led   him   to   the  palace-gate, 

And   called   the   sylphs    who   hovered   there 

And   bade   them   fly   and   bring  him   straight 
Of  clouds   condensed   a  sable   car. 

With    charm   and   spell   she   blessed   it   there, 
From   all   the   fiends   of  upper  air ; 

Then   round   him   cast   the   shadowy   shroud, 
And   tied   his   steed   behind   the   cloud ; 

And   pressed   his   hand   as    she   bade   him   fly 
Far   to   the   verge   of  the   northern   sky, 

For   by   its   wan   and   wavering   light 
There   was   a   star   would   fall   to-night. 


Borne   afar   on   the   wings   of  the   blast, 
Northward   away,   he   speeds   him   fast, 

And   his    courser  follows   the   cloudy   wain 
Till    the   hoof-strokes   fall   like   pattering   rain. 

The   clouds   roll   backward   as   he   flies, 
Each   flickering   star   behind   him   lies, 


THE   CULPRIT   FAY. 

And   he   has   reached   the   northern   plain, 
And   backed   his   fire-fly   steed   again, 

Ready   to   follow   in    its   flight 
The   streaming   of  the   rocket-light. 


The   star   is   yet   in   the   vault   of  heaven, 
But   it   rocks   in   the   summer   gale ; 

And   now   'tis   fitful   and   uneven, 
And    now   'tis    deadly   pale ; 


THE   CULPRIT   FAY.  Ill 

And   now   'tis   wrapped   in    sulphur-smoke, 
And   quenched   is    its   rayless   beam, 

And   now   with   a   rattling   thunder-stroke 
It   bursts   in   flash   and   flame. 


As   swift   as   the   glance    of  the   arrowy   lance 
That   the   storm-spirit   flings    from   high, 

The   star-shot   flew   o'er   the   welkin   blue, 
As   it   fell   from   the   sheeted   sky. 


As    swift   as    the   wind   in   its   trail   behind 

The   elfin   gallops   along, 
The   fiends   of  the   cloud   are   bellowing   loud, 

But   the   sylphid   charm   is   strong ; 


112 


THE   CULPRIT   FAY. 


He   gallops   unhurt   in    the   shower   of  fire, 
While   the   cloud-fiends   fly   from   the   blaze ; 


He   watches   each   flake  till   its   sparks   expire, 
And   rides    in   the   light   of  its   rays. 


THE   CULPRIT   FAY.  113 

But    he    drove    his    steed    to    the    lightning's 
speed, 

And   caught   a   glimmering   spark ; 
Then   wheeled   around   to   the   fairy   ground, 

And   sped   through   the   midnight   dark. 


"  £^Ov!  '* 


Ouphe   and   Goblin !    Imp   and    Sprite ! 

Elf  of  eve !    and   starry   Fay ! 
Ye   that   love   the   moon's    soft   light, 

Hither,   hither   wend   your   way ; 


114  THE   CULPRIT   FAY. 

Twine  ye   in   a  jocund   ring, 

Sing   and   trip   it   merrily, 
Hand   to   hand,   and   wing   to   wing, 

Round   the   wild   witch-hazel   tree. 

Hail   the   wanderer   again 

With   dance   and   song,    and   lute   and   lyre, 
Pure   his   wing   and   strong   his   chain, 

And   doubly   bright   his   fairy   fire. 

Twine   ye   in   an   airy   round, 

Brush   the   dew   and   print   the   lea ; 

Skip   and   gambol,    hop   and   bound, 
Round   the   wild   witch-hazel   tree. 

The   beetle   guards   our   holy   ground, 
He   flies   about   the   haunted   place, 


Il6  THE   CULPRIT  FAY. 

And   if  mortal   there   be   found, 

He   hums   in   his   ears   and   flaps   his   face ; 

The   leaf-harp   sounds    our   roundelay, 
The   owlet's   eyes   our  lanterns   be ; 

Thus   we   sing,   and   dance,   and   play, 
Round   the   wild   witch-hazel   tree. 


But,    hark !    from   tower   on   tree-top   high 
The   sentry-elf  his   call   has   made : 

A   streak   is   in   the   eastern   sky, 

Shapes    of  moonlight!    flit   and   fade! 

The   hill-tops   gleam   in   morning's    spring, 
The   sky-lark   shakes   his   dabbled   wing, 


n8 


THE   CULPRIT   FAY. 


The   day-glimpse   glimmers   on   the   lawn, 
The  cock  has  crowed,  and  the  Fays  are  gone. 


flWWT 


